The Darkest Hour.

He sat by the hospital bed, listening and watching, " You gotta hang in there. Come on, please don't go."

He almost begged; he wasn't sure if he could hear anything anymore. It's said that hearing and touch are the last senses to detect when a person dies. He took her hand in his. It was so delicate, cold, limp. He tried to warm it in his own larger hands, hoping she was still conscious that she would react and squeeze his hand. But no, the delicate, cold hand remained limp, and he saw that the nurses had removed her ring. Well, it wouldn't stay on her finger when his loved one was so withered and so finished.

He refused to believe the doctors when, two months earlier, they had told them both that nothing could be done, no medicine would help, and now they just had to treat the symptoms and try to maintain their quality of life. Quality would be more important than duration, but he wasn't ready to give up on his love just yet.

He felt so powerless, so alone, when he knew what the future would be without her. He heard a slight change in her breathing, a slight break, and felt his heart stop. He stood up.

He lowered the hospital bed and took her in his arms, stroked her hair, and felt her limp, thin body against him. How cold she already was. Pale. Her breathing slowed again; there was a break in it, and now he couldn't stop the tears that flowed from his eyes as he held his dying wife in his arms.

He felt her heart slow and realized how finished her body was. He whispered something in a broken voice, his eyes wet with tears. Then it stopped. He could no longer feel his wife's heart beating or hear her breathing. He broke down, crying inconsolably, holding his now-dead wife in his arms.

Sobbing, " Elena, I love you, always. Remember that. I know we weren't together for long, but you made me so much better, and now I don't know how I can be without you."

Finally, when the nurses and doctors came and pronounced Elena Salvatore dead of leukemia, Damon walked away. He couldn't be human anymore, and he knew, he'd heard, that certain witches would make him a vampire again. He wanted to take his feelings away now and not feel this wrenching emptiness and powerlessness that seemed to tear through him.

Six months later. Michigan.

Fiona Westen was on her way home after a long day at school. She was a teacher and taught children about seven years old. The school where she worked was relatively small, and there were not too many students. She lived alone. She had no time for socializing as she was trying to study simultaneously to get more training for her university studies.

She turned into her driveway on her bike and noticed a raven sitting on the ground; well, it wasn't unusual. She had heard of ravens before. Fiona liked animals, and her favorite subject was teaching biology and telling children about the wonders of nature and animals.

She had two cats, black and white, and she was not above being inventive when the white cat was called Snow and the black cat was called Soot. She got off her bike and walked it out into the yard, and the raven didn't move as she passed by. Fiona locked up her bike and walked back to the bird.

She got close, and the bird only took a few steps, looking weak. Fiona had nursed birds back to health before, and the raven was omnivorous, so she would find food for it before it got stronger again.

She went inside her house. It was a terraced two-room house, and her cats just raised their heads when they saw her enter. She got an old cage. It was big enough for the raven to be in there recovering, and she put in some minced meat and berries, some seeds in the dishes, and water; she would see how the raven recovered.

She walked out; the bird was still in the place, and she took the bird's hands gently, being careful of its powerful beak. She didn't see a ring on the leg, and the bird didn't feel too skinny; she felt and spread its wings; they worked. Then she carried the birds inside. Either the bird had some disease but didn't seem sick, or it had crashed into something.

Fiona had always volunteered during school holidays at animal welfare societies and bird sanctuaries, so she had experience. She put the raven in a cage and was delighted when the raven went to eat the mince. Fiona then went to the kitchen.

She warmed up her food as usual, emailed her mother and cousin, and sighed as she thought about the upcoming wedding. It was one of her cousins, and then she would have to listen to hours of her aunt wondering why she didn't have a boyfriend or even a girlfriend. When she wasn't gay, she wasn't just looking for a relationship now as she was trying to concentrate on her career and get a better job while she finished her studies. 

She watched TV in the evening. She had done some studying, knowing that in a couple of weeks, she would have another brief break when she would resume her studies at university. She couldn't or didn't want to take long periods of leave when she was saving money, so she tried to work as much as she could, and balancing work and study was sometimes quite tricky.

It was getting ten at night, and she always went to bed early. She had given the raven more mince; it seemed in better shape, although it was sleeping quite a lot, and she was mildly worried. There weren't many vets who treated wild animals, and as the raven was not a rare bird, it was possible that the vet just put it down. But she always wanted to give it a chance, so she gave it more mince. Then she retired to her bedroom, brushed her teeth, changed into her pajamas, and went to bed. She was asleep in ten minutes. 

In the cage, the raven watched and listened, and when he was sure she was asleep, he turned into a mist; the mist floated in the air and slowly passed under the bedroom door. After a few minutes, Damon watched his sleeping victim with pleasure.

He approached the bed; she was asleep on her back, snoring softly he went to the bedside, looked at her with no emotion other than the bloodlust that showed in his red eyes, turned her head to the side, leaned over her, and bit his teeth into her neck and drank, delightfully tasting her life force.

When he had drunk half a liter or a little more, he pulled his teeth out, bit his lip, and licked the bite marks on his tongue where his blood was. Healing them, he licked every drop of blood off, turned into a mist, and returned to the cage as a raven. 

Fiona woke up in the morning; she had a headache and was thirsty; she brushed her teeth, put on her clothes, and went for breakfast and coffee, taking the raven some minced meat; he seemed to be much better, even vocalizing in his cage. 

Fiona ate and returned to her daily routine, going to work and shopping when she got home. She was thirstier today, and she didn't think about it. She wasn't pretty; her small eyes, high cheekbones, big nose, and bad skin didn't make her attractive when she wore enormous glasses. Her eyesight wasn't good.

She was thin and shapeless. She remembered how, in school days, other girls teased her, the board. Then, when she was still quite tall, it only emphasized her shapelessness.

She went back then for the afternoon. She gave the raven fresh meat now that she had bought it in the shop, ate, studied, watched love movies on TV, daydreamed now, and then went to bed. 

 Damon turned into a mist again, went and feasted on his victim. He did the same thing every night, enjoying watching from his cage as she came in to eat in the morning, paler and paler, weaker and weaker, utterly unaware of what had happened in the night. Damon enjoyed the power he had over his victim.

He had done the same thing many times across America, where Stefan had been a brutal ripper. He was a secret beast who weakened his victim mercilessly and slowly, enjoying their weakness.

It had been five nights since he had feasted on his victim, and now it would be time for the ultimate climax. He waited as she, white as a sheet, now walking unsteadily as she was dizzy, came into the kitchen, gulping juice and water, making coffee and breakfast.

When she had eaten and was coming into the living room to give him meat again, Damon, in a mist, came out of the cage, making her scream and freeze in place. Damon let his red eyes show, the black veins around his eyes making him look like a demon. He smiled cruelly as he came towards her.

 "Greetings, don't be afraid, it won't hurt. But then again, I lied; it does hurt, but first, I'll have a little appetizer." 

Fiona couldn't move; the raven had turned into a mist, and now a vampire was in front of her. She had heard of vampires. She had just never seen one, and she watched as the handsome vampire man went and took the Snow; her cat stroked it and then struck his teeth into the cat's side, right through the heart, and drank a few swallows, and the Snow hung lifelessly from the man's grip.

Fiona never forgot how the Snow had squeaked when the vampire had bitten. The vampire took the Soot in his arms and stroked it, muttered something to it, and Fiona felt her heart pounding. The Soot had been a wild cat, hadn't trusted a human, and with work and perseverance, she had tamed the cat.

The vampire looked at her and struck his teeth into the cat's heart, which shrieked. And it was over quickly. The vampire threw the cat's carcass away, took a few steps towards her, and touched her on the cheek. The vampire's fingers were ice cold and chills of fear and terror ran down the Fiona's spine.

The vampire whispered, "I have enjoyed your blood every night, and now it is time for the last meal..."

He brushed Fiona's insignificant brown hair away from her neck, bent the woman's head to the side and now slammed his teeth into the side of her neck, making her scream in pain but unable to move.

The vampire's throat moved as he swallowed her now dilute blood greedily, hearing her pulse quicken, smelling the fear and terror of his prey, and then the best part as the pulse slowed. He held his now almost unconscious prey close and greedily continued to drink, and his pleasure was complete as the heartbeat stopped, and she stopped breathing. He drank all the blood he could and healed the bite wounds again. He didn't leave evidence behind him and dropped the dead woman on the floor. It was time to change the scenery again. 

Twenty years later, Mystic Falls, cemetery.

Bonnie Bennet had come to visit. It had been a while since she last visited, and she had never been to Elena's grave; she hadn't even known of her death while she had been traveling the world.

On a bush walk in Australia, she overheard a tearful message from Caroline on her phone when she returned to civilization. Elena had been diagnosed with a very rare and malignant form of leukemia, and no treatments were working. Damon had been with Elena until the end but had then disappeared and hadn't even been to the funeral.

No one had seen Damon, no one they knew, and Bonnie could not help but feel deep sympathy for Damon. He had lost his brother, and when she broke Cai's curse on Elena, she woke her up. They hadn't had Damon for over three years, and they married after the diagnosis. Elena had wanted to die as Salvatore.

Bonnie had been sad and had been so many times about to go back, but she had never gotten over the death of Enzo. She hadn't been able to go back, knowing that Elena had died too. Caroline was now the headmistress of the school. Alaric was back as a vampire hunter. Matt had moved to New York, made it as far as the detective, and had found a partner. Jeremy also lived the life of a vampire hunter or whatever evil creatures they were looking for. 

Bonnie first walked into Stefan's tomb. Even though Stefan had ripped Enzo out of her life, she didn't want to hold a grudge. Stefan had been dead for over 20 years, and although Bonnie believed there was peace and that one day she would meet Enzo again, she couldn't help but miss him every single day.

Then she went on her way and found Elena's gravestone. Elena Gilbert, it said, not Salvatore. Caroline had told him that Damon had given Elena's name as Gilbert, not Salvatore, after her death, and Bonnie couldn't help but sigh, knowing that Damon had been in a very bad place and no one had heard about him.

She noticed the ring on Elena's headstone. It had been there for a long time. It was a man's ring. She took it in her hand.

There was engraving, "My soul mate, with love always and forever, Elena."

Bonnie realized that this had been Damon's wedding ring, and he had left it behind. Bonnie laid the bouquet of yellow lilies on Elena's grave, sighed, and just as suddenly felt danger was near. A fog crept into the cemetery, and a feeling of dread grew in Bonnie's heart. She could feel her heart rate rising.

"Hello, Bon Bon." a familiar voice said suddenly from behind her.

Bonnie was startled and turned around. "Damon. How... no one knew where you were."

Bonnie noticed Damon was just as young looking, then his red eyes and the daylight ring on his right hand told the truth.

"How did you? It's not possible you're a vampire again; the cure killed Katherine; how.."

Damon took a step closer. Bonnie's skin was thinner. This one had wrinkles around her eyes and even a little grey in her hair, yet this one was only 40 or so.

Damon said, his voice cold as ice, "I found some witches, black witches that sucked the healing out of me, making me a vampire again, so I don't have to feel."

Bonnie sighed. Elena's death had broken Damon. This one had made himself a vampire again and taken his humanity off. Stefan was long dead, Elena was dead, and Bonnie wasn't sure how to help her friend. She would have to get Damon's humanity back on.

Damon said, " I don't have my humanity anymore. I have my telepathy, though. Look, Bon Bon, and I wanted it that way, so those witches took my humanity away from me completely. Now no one can make me weak."

Bonnie said, "I'll get it back when I try. What would Elena say now? She wouldn't have wanted you to do this."

Damon laughed; it was actually a scary sound, and Bonnie almost felt the urge to run away. She had never been so afraid of anything in her life.

Damon said, " Bon Bon, Elena is not here; she died, and besides, that cliché belongs to people; I'm not one of them."

Bonnie gulped. She was like a deer in headlights when Damon came closer. Right on her, looking at her like a piece of meat. Sweeping her hair back, exposing her neck, Bonnie tried to get her mouth, which was suddenly really dry, to say something, but Damon, or what was left of him, was a beast. Indeed. She didn't see an ounce of humanity in this now.

Damon whispered, " Witches are tasty, and I'm hungry.."

Bonnie felt a sharp pain pierce her neck and hot pain burned as Damon sank his teeth into her neck and began to drink her blood. And fast. Bonnie tried to summon her magic, but Damon drank her blood relentlessly, fast, and she felt her head begin to spin as the dizziness began to take over. Her pulse was pounding, and Damon's cold hands held her, and the more he drank, the warmer his hands became.

Bonnie felt her consciousness almost shut down as Damon took his teeth out, looked at her with his mouth bloody, and said, " Well, Bon Bon, don't worry. Soon, you'll be back with Enzo, and tell Elena I said hello."

Damon bit again. Bonnie screamed, tried to fight now, but her movements were powerless, weak; darkness rolled across her vision, and her consciousness shut down.

Damon felt the witch's strong blood trickle down his throat, and he relished it. This was his nature, his true essence, and he had no regrets when he killed and drank away the woman he once considered his best friend. He could feel Bonnie's pulse slowing. Soon, this would be his, as so many other women had been over the decades; Bonnie was limp, cold, and lifeless as he released his grip.

Her eyes were half open, looking at nothingness, lips parted, dry, and expression well dead; he looked at the dead woman for a moment, turned into a raven, and flew away. He had had another meal, and it was time to change places. Find a new victim to feed on for a few nights. They say the darkest hour is just before dawn, and he didn't care. His life was to enjoy that very darkest hour.